


To the End

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arguing, Autistic Regulus Black, Babies, Black Family (Harry Potter) - Freeform, Child Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, First Relationship, Gen, Hallucinations, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: A collection of ficlets about Regulus and Kreacher.Chapter 1: Regulus is shocked when Sirius stands up to their mother.Chapter 2: Kreacher is distraught when baby James claims his locket as his own.Chapter 3: Regulus is still figuring out how relationships work, but he knows he doesn't want to snog in a broom cupboard.Chapter 4: Regulus' last moments.Chapter 5: Meeting the Dark Lord has consequences for Regulus.6: Regulus had always known he was different, but it's Sirius who discovers why.7: Regulus comes back from a mission and just wants to be warm.





	1. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue prompt: "I don't have to put up with this. That's it - I quit."

There was commotion on a lower floor of the house. Regulus’ stomach dropped when he heard it. There were only loud noises in Grimmauld Place when someone had incurred the wrath of their mother.

More often than not, it was Sirius who had made her angry, and Regulus dreaded the consequences of it more than Sirius did, if his incessant need to keep doing it was any indication.

Regulus knew the smart move would be to stay in his room, out of sight. If his parents noticed him, they’d paint him as Sirius’ antithesis again, and Regulus would be on the receiving end of one of Sirius’ glares that always made him feel like scum.

He didn’t stay in his room though. He never did anymore.

Kreacher was parked outside the door from which the yelling was emanating. No surprise there. The house elf was drawn to Sirius’ suffering as much as Sirius was drawn to his. Regulus wished the two of them could get along. Of all the inhabitants in the house, Regulus thought Sirius had the best chance of getting along with the house elf if he managed to put aside the house elf’s unwavering devotion to their parents.

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher greeted him with a nasty smirk. “Master Sirius is most angering Mistress. So ungrateful for all Master and Mistress Black do for him.”

Regulus tuned out Kreacher’s ramblings. He knew by now everything they would consist of, and though he had no desire to scold the elf he was so fond of, he didn’t want to listen to it either. For all he knew that they were true, it pained Regulus to hear the rest of the family say such terrible things about his brother.

He wished Sirius could learn from it instead of barging on with his inadvisable behavior like a common half-blood. With every passing day, Regulus became less hopeful of that outcome. He had seen the boys Sirius chose to hang out with at school. It had been worse than he’d imagined from his parents’ disgruntled comments over dinner after Sirius had started school and been sorted into Gryffindor.

Leaning into the door, Regulus listened to their mother’s screeches. Her words were remarkably similar to Kreacher’s. There was nothing new here. They’d been rehashing the same argument for more than five years.

Sirius’ voice cut through the yelling, and Regulus’ heart stopped.

“I don’t have to put up with this. That’s it—I quit.”

Their mother fell silent, and Regulus wished he could have seen the shock on her face if only because it would have helped him believe what he had heard was real. Sirius spoke back to everyone except their mother.

He couldn’t hear anything—even Kreacher had fallen silent—and his fingers itched to open the door and see the scene with his own eyes.

Before he could make a move, the door flung open with force, and he was face to face with his older brother, who held a fire in his eyes stronger than Regulus had ever seen it before.

Their eyes met, and Sirius’ gaze didn’t soften as it once had. For so long, he had been the one member of the family Sirius didn’t go out of his way to antagonize, but that had changed when he’d started school and become a Slytherin. 

Sirius stood frozen in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, looking at him with the same glare he had undoubtedly been directing at their mother seconds before.

Their mother broke the silence.

“Sirius Black get back—”

Her voice pulled Sirius back to reality, but instead of listening to her, Sirius pushed forward, his shoulder brushing past Regulus as he went.

Though he headed upstairs, Regulus knew that wasn’t his final destination. He would be gone within the hour.


	2. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kreacher is distraught when baby James claims his locket as his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: write about someone claiming something as their own

Kreacher sighed in satisfaction as he admired the newly spotless kitchen. In the years since the war, he’d taken to cleaning with a vigor he hadn’t possessed in years. With each new step Harry took, from buying a house to having children, Kreacher took his job more and more seriously.

The Potter household was warm and inviting in a way Grimmauld Place hadn’t been even at its peak, and Kreacher took pride in keeping it that way, especially after his young master was born.

Unconsciously, Kreacher went to touch his locket as he often did when he remembered how much James reminded him of Regulus as an infant. He patted his chest a few times in panic when it wasn’t there, only to realize a split second later that he’d taken off the locket while cleaning. He’d been worried about getting it dirty and had sat it near his young master while he worked.

James had been placed in a corner away from the stove and cabinets—surrounded by barrier charms to keep him safe—while Master Harry ran out on a last minute errand. Kreacher had been enjoying listening to the baby’s babbling as he worked.

He hurried across the room, eager to put his locket back on. Instead, he found said locket in James’ mouth being chomped on with vigor.

Kreacher sucked in a deep, horrified breath. For a moment, he could do nothing but stare at the child in horror.

“M-Master James,” he began hesitantly, taking a step towards the child and holding out a hand. “Master James, Kreacher would like his—”

“Mine,” James cried, holding the locket close to his body.

Kreacher collapsed to the floor in shock, staring at the baby. He’d known it was a risk even reaching for the object. He wouldn’t have dared done it when the Blacks had been his masters, but Harry had been insistent that the locket was Kreacher’s to do with what he liked.

There was little Kreacher could do. If his master had claimed something as his own, he couldn’t take it, even if said master were too young to be taken seriously by other wizards. The baby was oblivious to the hurt he’d caused as he continued to play with his new toy.

Kreacher stared at James, blinking away tears, until Harry arrived. If he’d been asked, Kreacher couldn’t have said how long he’d been watching James with the locket. It hadn’t been long enough for the baby to lose interest.

“Kreacher?” Harry asked in alarm, not sure what to make of the sight of the elf sitting on the floor looking distraught.

“Master Harry,” Kreacher returned, not registering that the use of his name had been more of a question than a greeting.

Harry looked at James, trying to figure out why Kreacher couldn’t tear his eyes from the child, and quickly zeroed in on the locket. It was no longer in the baby’s mouth but was instead clutched in his fist as he waved his arms in front of him. He laughed when the chain clanged together and made noise.

“James!”

Harry rushed forward, reaching for the locket. As soon as James realized what Harry was after, the wailing returned.

Kreacher cringed at the sound, covering his ears.

“No, no, Master Harry!”

The elf found the willpower to stand, his whole body shaking at the thought of having disappointed one of his masters.

“Master James has taken the locket as his own. Kreacher must give it to Master. Master James likes the locket.”

Harry sighed, the locket in his fist as he held a flailing and screaming James in his opposite arm. Somehow, he was able to ignore the way James was repeatedly hitting him in the chest.

He frowned at Kreacher, sympathetic but as unsure as always when he tried to navigate reasoning with a house-elf. He still had trouble seeing the world from their point of view, and it made his and Kreacher’s relationship more complicated than it might have been otherwise.

“James is a baby,” Harry said carefully, willing Kreacher to see things his way for once. “Babies like to take things, but they have to learn they can’t take everything. By taking the locket back, you’re helping James. You’re teaching him how to be a good, upstanding wizard, Kreacher. We want him to be a good person, right?”

Kreacher sniffled, running his arm across his nose. Harry chose to ignore the snot that lined his arm when he pulled it away.

“Of course, Master Harry. Kreacher will do anything to help Master James grow up like a good wizard.”

“I know you will. That’s why you need to take the locket back.”

Kreacher didn’t appear convinced, but he didn’t argue either. Harry held out the locket, and he took it with a shaking hand. He slipped it back over his neck without acknowledging James’ saliva, which was still coating the jewelry.

As the house-elf bowed, Harry cringed at the sight, doing his best to hide the reaction by the time Kreacher straightened.

“Thank you, Master Harry. Kreacher appreciates Master Harry letting him help Master James. Kreacher didn’t know it would be helping.”

“I understand, Kreacher, but please don’t let James take the locket again.”

Kreacher gave a short, affirmative nod.

“Yes, Master Harry.”

With one more deep bow, he hurried from the room. Harry watched him go, shaking his head in bemusement.

James had already calmed in his arms, his screaming turning to happy babbling as he sucked on his fist. With a sigh, Harry gave him a bounce, earning giggles that tore his mind from the unfortunate circumstances of the afternoon.


	3. It Wouldn't Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus is still figuring out how relationships work, but he knows he doesn't want to snog in a broom cupboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:  
> (location) broom cupboard  
> Regulus - Slash September

Regulus came to an abrupt stop when he realized where Isaac was leading him. When Isaac felt the tug on his arm, he turned around, giving Regulus’ hand a squeeze.

“What’s wrong?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“That’s a broom cupboard,” he pointed out. “You expect us to snog in a broom cupboard?”

Isaac glanced at the door to the cupboard and shrugged.

“Why not? It’s private. Where would you rather go? The dormitory where anyone could walk in? Or the Astronomy Tower where there’ll be five other couples going at it?”

Regulus’ nose wrinkled. Isaac was his first relationship, so he didn’t know the ins and outs of finding a decent place to snog. He did know that he didn’t want to do it in a broom cupboard.

“But it’s a broom cupboard,” he said slowly. “It’s full of...brooms...and dust.”

Isaac gave a short laugh.

“Neither of which will kill you, Reg.”

He took a step closer, wrapping his arms around Regulus’ waist.

“Come on,” he urged, leaning in to place a quick kiss on Regulus’ lips. “I’d really like to snog you, and the cupboard’s right there.”

The familiar tingling in Regulus’ veins urged him to give in, but those urges were overpowered by his strong revulsion towards the place.

“No,” he said, pulling back, “I can’t get into it knowing we’re somewhere so dirty.”

“Regulus, don’t be difficult.”

Regulus felt his blood boil. For a second, he thought me might be able to contain his anger, but he quickly threw that out as hopeless. Even though he knew he’d beat himself up for becoming like his mother later, he couldn’t stop himself from snapping.

“I’m being difficult because I don’t want to snog somewhere filthy?”

Isaac glanced around the corridor.

“You’re going to make a scene,” he said.

Regulus gave a loud laugh.

“You’re worried about making a scene, but you’re perfectly fine being known as someone who snogs in a broom cupboard?”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. In one swift motion, he tugged the cupboard open and pulled Regulus inside, shutting the door behind them. Regulus shied away from the cobweb covered walls, nose turned up in disgust.

“See? This is filthy. I doubt that good-for-nothing caretaker has cleaned this place in decades.”

Regulus reached for the doorknob, but Isaac reached out a hand to stop him.

“I’m not arguing with you in the corridor where everyone can see us.”

Regulus smirked.

“Then don’t argue with me at all and just accept that this was an idiotic idea.”

“No,” Isaac retorted. “Snogging in a broom cupboard is something normal couples do, Regulus. Stop acting like a high and mighty Black for once in your life.”

Regulus’ jaw tensed. He knew Isaac was touchy about his family not being as distinguished as many of the people in their house, but that didn’t mean he got to demean Regulus’ own family to make himself feel better.

They’d been arguing for a full five minutes, voices rising and topics ever shifting, when the cupboard door opened.

“What in Merlin’s name is happening here?”

The Slytherin boys froze as they looked at Frazier, one of the Ravenclaw prefects. The older boy was scowling at them. Neither of them bothered to respond to his question.

“Snogging in the cupboard I see,” Frazier said, voice heavy with disapproval. “I believe that warrants a detention.”

Regulus sneered.

“We weren’t—”

Isaac stepped in front of him, cutting off his protests.

“Yes, you got us. Good one, Frazier. When will we be serving our detention?”

Regulus glared at Isaac’s back the entire time Frazier was detailing their punishment. Once they’d escaped, Isaac was quick to speak.

“Stop glaring at me, Regulus. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Now he thinks we were actually snogging in a broom cupboard.”

Isaac hummed, a large smirk on his face. Regulus hated how attracted he felt to him in that moment.

“Do you care what a Ravenclaw thinks of you then?”

“No,” Regulus snapped, though he wasn’t sure it was true. His parents had long pressed on him the importance of appearances after all. “But now I have to snog you in a cupboard to spite the bloke, and I won’t be happy about it.”

Isaac threw his head back in a laugh.

“I’ll brush up on my silencing charms,” he assured Regulus.


	4. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus' last moments.

The sharp wind was a shock to Regulus’ system when he and Kreacher appeared in a cave that opened to a tumultuous lake. Looking through the cave’s opening, Regulus saw a rainy sky that provided little light to see by. He had expected the place where the Dark Lord had hidden his most well-kept secret to be sinister; he hadn’t expected the weather to play along with his master’s wishes.

Kreacher shivered and took a step towards Regulus as if he were a scared child and Regulus was his father. It wasn’t anything like the house elf’s usual behavior; Kreacher had been greatly shaken by what he’d witnessed. Regulus was about to make that worse due to a lack of other options.

He had hoped the sky would be blue when he looked at it last, but he had already accepted that his life wasn’t going to end how he had hoped it would.

Kreacher wasn’t paying attention to the outside like Regulus had been. He was too busy staring at the wall of stone in front of them. As Regulus watched, the elf held up a shaking hand to touch the rock.

“Master must sacrifice his blood,” Kreacher said in a shaky voice. “Kreacher cannot Apparate farther. Only masters can pay the price.”

Regulus didn’t speak, too afraid of what might escape his throat besides words. Raising his wand, he sliced open his palm and smeared his blood across the stone while trying not to cringe at the way it burned. The entrance revealed itself, and Regulus didn’t allow himself to hesitate before he entered.

The lake was as Kreacher had described it, but despite the elf’s original telling of the story being done in tears, he was stoic as he steered the boat across the surface of the lake. Regulus took the opportunity the boat ride provided to observe their surroundings. Little could be seen under the surface of the murky water, but he knew what lurked there from Kreacher’s story. Shivers went down his spine as he thought about joining the Inferi in their watery grave.

There were many questions he wished he had the answer to: How had the Dark Lord gained enough bodies for an Inferi army? How had he created a Horcrux? Would Kreacher be able to destroy the locket once he was gone?

All of them were things he’d never know the answer to. He’d had to accept that over the past week.

Kreacher drug the boat onto the shore of a small island. The elf gave a quiet whine as Regulus stepped up to the basin that held the Horcrux.

Regulus swore he could feel the sliver of the Dark Lord’s soul calling to him, but he had no way of knowing if it was magic or his imagination. He knew remarkably little about Horcrux magic for someone who was being forced to put a stop to it.

He conjured a cup for himself, trying to ignore Kreacher’s whimpering. The elf wanted to argue with him; Regulus knew he did. If he gave the elf permission to speak, he would let Kreacher Apparate him out of the cave within minutes. That couldn’t happen.

Tugging the locket he’d prepared out of his pocket, Regulus reflected on how much he was risking. It wasn’t just that his own life would come to an end before the day was over. He also wasn’t destined to be the hero who brought down the Dark Lord once and for all. With his death, no Horcrux would be destroyed. That was up to Kreacher or, if the elf failed, whoever else got pulled into the madness.

There was no way for Regulus to know if his death would make a difference. It was merely one piece in a game that was stacked in the Dark Lord’s favour. Regulus would have little impact on the final outcome.

It was enough to make him question if sacrificing himself was worth it, but the longer he stood before the basin, feeling the Horcrux calling to him, the sicker he felt. He had to do what he could to remove it from the world.

Taking a deep breath, he scooped water from the basin and raised it to his lips. From the first drink, he felt a severe sense of thirst overtake his mind. He managed one, two, three gulps before he collapsed to the ground, his mind able to remember only how thirsty he was.

Kreacher was there, though Regulus was hardly aware of him, holding the cup to Regulus’ lips again and again in a vicious cycle he would never escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:  
> (setting) Tom Riddle's cave  
> (word) rainy


	5. Voice in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Dark Lord has consequences for Regulus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notice: torture, hallucinations
> 
> Prompt:  
> write about someone intelligent

“B-but I still have two years of school left,” Regulus stammers, looking at Bellatrix as if she’s out of her mind.

He often thinks she is. There’s always something off with her, and Regulus doesn’t know if it’s a product of her environment or a byproduct of the long tradition of intermarriage among the Blacks. He thinks it’s probably the former with Bellatrix though. While she’s an extreme case, Regulus would be blind if he didn’t acknowledge the family members who would have influenced her.

It’s only grown worse since she married Rodolphus and he didn’t stop his affairs with the useless Muggle girls he’s drawn to. They’re little more than toys to him, but that’s exactly what he likes, much to Bellatrix’s disgust.

Only the family knows of that well-kept secret, but that doesn’t lessen Bellatrix’s shame. The family is more than willing to remind her of her inadequacies as a wife.

“You got all O’s on your OWLs,” Bellatrix points out with a smile. “The Dark Lord is most impressed. He knows to seize talent when he sees it.”

Regulus tries to keep his breathing even as he stares down at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. He can hear Kreacher moving around behind him cooking dinner, but his parents are locked away in their own secluded parts of the house. There’s no one but him to tell Bellatrix that he doesn’t want to join the Dark Lord because he’s scared of being chewed up and spit back out. He knows he can’t stomach doing the Dark Lord’s dirty work, but he also can’t survive rejecting such a powerful wizard.

With Bellatrix looking at him with an eager spark in her eyes, he knows he’ll agree to go with her. She’ll be proud to give the Dark Lord another Black, and Regulus imagines the pride in his parents’ eyes when they learn of his decision to do something about the state of the world.

“What must I do to prove myself?”

Bellatrix’s smile grows wider.

* * *

The Dark Lord sits in a chair in front of a fireplace. As Regulus trails behind Bellatrix, he feels like he’s entered a throne room, and it makes him more nervous than he can ever remember being. The Dark Lord watches him, and he’s careful to keep his eyes averted from the older wizard, unsure what rules of conduct are in place.

He’s never felt more like a child than he does in that moment. The Dark Lord is amused that a Hogwarts student is standing in front of him. He laughs at the idea of fooling Dumbledore by sending one of his followers into his mist. He makes Regulus swear his loyalty before he asks for Regulus’ arm.

Confused, Regulus gives it to him, heart racing in his chest even before the Dark Lord raises his wand and presses it to Regulus’ skin.

Instantly, Regulus’ whole body is on fire, the flames radiating out from the spot where the Dark Lord’s wand touches his skin. He writhes in pain, his knees giving out beneath him though the Dark Lord continues to grip his forearm. Somewhere in his mind, he can hear the Dark Lord and Bellatrix laughing at his pain.

Suddenly, the fire recedes.

His whole body shakes from exertion, and there’s an ache deep in his muscles that may never leave him. Looking down, he reacts with horror when he sees that the Dark Lord’s mark has been branded to his skin.

The Dark Lord laughs.

“You’ll need to hide it. I can’t protect you from Dumbledore while you’re inside the castle walls. I expect you to be as smart as Bellatrix has told me you are.”

It’s not just a warning but a threat, and Regulus nods quickly.

Bellatrix’s hand clenches his shoulder, and he cringes as her nails sink into his skin.

“Regulus is a smart boy,” she says to the Dark Lord, large smile in place. “He will do everything asked of him and do it discreetly. Just as you ask, my lord.”

“I hope that will be the case, Bellatrix. Any future failure on his part will be your responsibility as much as his.”

Her smile doesn’t lessen, but her grip tightens. Regulus doesn’t say a word as she steers him from the Dark Lord’s throne room.

She never directly threatens him. She doesn’t have to. They both know how shaken he is from seeing the Dark Lord face-to-face, and he feels sick from the smirk on her face as she dumps him in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place and vanishes into the fireplace.

* * *

The hallucinations begin that evening as he’s trying to occupy himself with a game of solitaire in his room. The events of the day have been haunting him since he returned home, and it finally becomes too much. He’s sure the Dark Lord is speaking behind him, but when he turns around, no one is there.

It continues as the days go on. A clear voice is omnipresent, narrating his daily life, and no matter how much Regulus tells himself that it’s not actually there, it remains. He takes to swiveling his head back and forth trying to catch the Dark Lord before he can disappear.

The first time, he told himself that it wasn’t real, but as it continues, he’s increasingly unsure. The Dark Lord has proven his power, and Regulus knows the man could haunt him in such a way if he wished to. He knows the Dark Lord is watching him somewhere, directing his movements. It fills him with the same anxiety he felt when he stood in front of his master.

He can never misbehave again. His master will know of it immediately, of that he is sure.

Even when he waits for sleep to take him, the voice continues, warning him to stay in line.


	6. Something Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus had always known he was different, but it's Sirius who discovers why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notice: Description of autistic meltdowns and ableism.
> 
> Prompt:  
> (word) breathe

Regulus had felt different for as long as he could remember. At first, it had been impossible for him to put his finger on what it was; he had just known that being strange was a fact of his life.

His parents brushed it under the rug. To them, he was the perfect son. They couldn’t see why others would sometimes comment on his habits. At times, they even got extremely defensive, swearing that it was others with the problem, not Regulus. (Which, to be fair, Regulus often thought was a good point.) Several family connections had been lost when others said impolite things about Regulus. But while he appreciated his parents standing up for him, it had bothered him from a young age that they wouldn’t acknowledge that something really was different, even if it wasn’t a bad thing.

As the years passed, their house was used less and less frequently to host parties for the well respected pureblood families. That wasn’t just because his parents had blown off some important people in their defense of him or because the Blacks as a whole were beginning to be seen as a little uncouth by some. It was also because those same parties set Regulus off.

He was never able to explain it when questioned about it, but during the build up to a party, everyone around him was on edge. His mother’s temper was easily stoked, whether you placed a toe out of line or not. Kreacher would put up elaborate decorations that made Regulus feel as if he couldn’t touch anything. Their home suddenly didn’t feel like their home anymore, and he didn’t like it.

The worst part was always the party itself though. During them, Regulus couldn’t escape from the people no matter how hard he tried, and he would try very hard to be the perfect host like his parents wanted, but eventually, he would crash. The sounds, sights, smells… All of it would build and build until it was too much for Regulus to process at once. No one believed him when he said it was scary, but it was.

He’d flee to the darkest part of the house he could find, usually in the attic where no guests dared trespass, and squeeze himself into the tightest corner he could manage. Once there, he’d remind himself to breathe until his senses returned to normal in the calm atmosphere.

By the time he was ten, he’d accepted that he was different and would never know why. It was Sirius who had cared more for an answer than Regulus had realized.

The Christmas before Regulus was due to start Hogwarts, Sirius came straight to his room upon arriving home from school. Regulus opened his bedroom door with reluctance, hating when others invaded his space. Sirius wasted no time in getting to the point.

“You’re autistic. That’s what the Muggles call it.”

Regulus blinked several times, trying to sort out the meaning of the foreign word Sirius had used.

“How you’re different,” Sirius continued when he realized his words weren’t clicking. “Muggles have studied it, and they call it Autism.”

A rush of emotions enveloped Regulus. He’d had questions for so long, and he was suddenly the closest to getting answers he’d ever been. Still, a name for it didn’t go as far as explaining it all.

“How do you know that?” he asked distrustfully.

His and Sirius’ relationship had grown strained since his brother went to Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor. He wouldn’t have put it above Sirius to have planned a prank to mess with his head.

“There’s a Muggleborn at Hogwarts who’s autistic too, and she taught me about it. Usually, the Muggles make you go to one of their doctors to get diagnosed, but it definitely explains the things you do. Tonight, when they go to sleep, I’m going to sneak out and get you a book about it at that Muggle bookshop two blocks over.”

Regulus couldn’t do anything but nod dumbly until Sirius had set off down the hall. Regulus shut himself in his room again, feeling a little stunned that he might finally be getting close to answers. The trouble was, he wasn’t sure how satisfying the answers would be. His parents would never accept a Muggle diagnosis after all.


	7. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus comes back from a mission and just wants to be warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:  
> (character) Regulus Black  
> Write about someone trying to stay warm.

Regulus tightened the blanket around his shoulders, staring into the fire. He wondered what it would be like to stick his hand in and let it burn. It would be less painful than what he’d witnessed Bellatrix doing to a random Muggle several hours previously. He shuddered at the memory, still potent in his mind’s eye. He tightened the blanket again, though it wasn’t doing its job well.

His stomach gurgled, but he told himself that perhaps it was the cold making him sick, not what he’d witnessed. Others much wiser than him knew that such steps were necessary after all. It hadn’t been a witch or wizard who he’d watched be dismembered. It had been an unremarkable Muggle. They’d been sacrificed to make an important point. Everything the Dark Lord commanded was important. Regulus wouldn’t dare question that.

Why had the Dark Lord sent them out on a night that was so cold? Regulus shivered, unable to feel any heat from the fire in front of him. The Dark Lord had to have had his reasons. Time didn’t just stop to let winter pass after all. Still, Regulus wasn’t sure he’d ever escape the chill after standing out in the icy night as Bellatrix fulfilled her duties with Regulus close by, ready to step up if needed.

He hadn’t been needed; Bellatrix had been more than capable of finishing the job on her own. He shivered.

Kreacher ambled into the sitting room carrying a tray. Regulus had expected the house elf to bring tea and was surprised to instead see a carafe of hot chocolate that was almost as big as the elf himself. Regulus’ heart tightened. Hot chocolate had long been his favourite, but he’d shied away from drinking it over the years, worried that it made him appear young in the eyes of those around him.

“Would Master Regulus like some hot chocolate?” Kreacher asked, using a small voice as if he, too, didn’t want others to know that Regulus was drinking something so childish.

“Yes, thank you, Kreacher,” Regulus replied, hating the way his voice wavered and betrayed him.

Though Kreacher busied himself with the tray and avoided looking at him, Regulus could sense a gentleness in the way Kreacher went about his work. It wasn’t something usual for the elf, and Regulus resisted the urge to thank him for coming to him without being summoned.

His parents treated Kreacher as if he were part of the house. They’d share valuable information in front of him not because they trusted him but because it never occurred to them that he’d be intelligent enough to understand it, let alone capable to spreading it.

Regulus, however, had noticed at a young age that Kreacher understood far more about the inner workings of Grimmauld Place than even Walburga did. He’d been maneuvering the politics that existed even within their nuclear family since he’d been born, and he knew exactly what needed to be done at all times. It was part of his job, yes, yet Regulus couldn’t shake the idea that Kreacher was actually fond of them, even if he wasn’t encouraged to show it in a human fashion.

When Kreacher handed him the mug of hot chocolate, Regulus gave him a tight smile, the best he could manage. He gripped the mug tightly, relishing the warmth that finally began to pierce his skin. He took a sip, resisting a groan as the warmth spread through his insides too.

He offered Kreacher another small smile, wishing he wasn’t frightened to voice his thanks out loud. To many, Kreacher’s returning gaze would appear impassive, but Regulus was sure that it was largely from his continued worry about Regulus’ state. Things had been difficult since he’d received his mark. He’d be lying if he claimed otherwise, and the elf had seen it all. No even Regulus’ parents could claim that, locked away in their own parts of the house as they were.

“Master Regulus will let Kreacher know if Master needs anything?”

Regulus gave a short nod, and Krecher promptly disappeared, leaving behind the hot chocolate.


End file.
